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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206656">"Hello!" - from another world</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMayBellTree/pseuds/TheMayBellTree'>TheMayBellTree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Saioutober2k20 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kokichi and Shuichi live together!, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Sad Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi Needs a Hug, Therapy, Therapy is good, There is a lot of angst near the end fair warning, healing is good, kind of, you'll see - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:27:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMayBellTree/pseuds/TheMayBellTree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kokichi Ouma died four years ago. </p><p>Shuichi had thought he had died. Everyone had thought he had died. Three years ago, when he appeared again, Shuichi was overwhelmed with happiness. They learned about each other. They fell in love. They moved in together. Shuichi was planning to propose. Life as they knew it was picture perfect. </p><p>Despite that, even hell gets cold sometimes.</p><p>PROMPT ONE FOR THE SAIOUMA PIT SAIOUTOBER EVENT: Domestic</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito (mentioned), Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Saioutober2k20 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>"Hello!" - from another world</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hellooooo~! I'm a bit late on this prompt as today has been particularly busy for me, but hopefully that doesn't become a habit for the rest of the week!</p><p>One of our prompts for the event this year was "domestic". So what did I decide to do? I decided to pour a shit ton of angst on it! </p><p>Let's go ba-beeeey~!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the fourth anniversary of Danganronpa being cancelled, Shuichi sat on a sofa. Lamplight illuminated the foyer, casting a yellow hue upon a dim television and upon Trixie, his maltese. Kokichi was particularly rambunctious that day. All day he had been dancing around their shared apartment, clanging pots and pans together as he sung a bardic tune singing the blasphemations towards the once-popular reality show Danganronpa. </p><p> </p><p>“Kokichi! You’re making too much noise. The neighbors are going to be mad again!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nishishi~! Do you <em> really </em>think I care? Shuichiiii… this is a day of remembrance! We have to celebrate!” and he spun around, banging two iron cast pots together as if to prove a point. When he met Shuichi’s eyes, there was nothing but a childish mirth in those vibrant violet irises. He spotted a twinkle behind those eyes; he was joyous, happy, and so excited that the show that killed so many of their friends was cancelled. He banged those pots in time to the tune that poured out of his mouth, a smooth jazz remix of a vocaloid song a long-time hater of Danganronpa had made using Shuichi’s words from the last trial.</p><p> </p><p>“Danganronpa is over… Danganronpa is <em> over </em>…” his words dripped with delicious enthusiasm and shaking with vibrato. Shuichi always thought Kokichi had a lovely voice. Surprisingly, it worked excellently with jazz. Shuichi would sway and hum as he listened to Kokichi’s voice, closing his eyes as he enveloped himself in Kokichi’s sweet symphony. Kokichi teased him, of course. </p><p> </p><p><em> “Did you hear me during the Caged Child song? That was definitely not good singing, Shuichi. Maybe </em> you’re <em> the crazy one after all.” </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shuichi shrugged. “I thought it was good.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> A sharp laugh tore itself from Kokichi’s throat. He fastened his apron around himself, tying a bunny knot around his back as he prepared to check the oven. They were cooking lasagna tonight. “Well… whatever you say.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Now was not one of those times. Kokichi didn’t tease him when he closed his eyes and swayed to the music. He was too caught up in his own bliss. The pots clanged and banged and the sharp metal underside of the pots scrapped against one another. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> ... it’s over! It’s over! Hm, hm, hm… Danganronpa issss overrrrr!” </em></p><p> </p><p>Shuichi smiled. He was happy.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The night after the anniversary of the cancellation of Danganronpa, it was tradition for the survivors of Danganronpa to visit the grave sites of the victims of the killing game. Shortly after Kiibo freed them from the prison school and Tsumugi’s death, they discovered the bodies of those killed in Danganronpa in the basement of the school. Out of respect and a need for closure, the survivors gathered up the bodies one-by-one, burying them in lackluster caskets and self-dug graves. </p><p> </p><p>Normally Shuichi visited the gravesite once a month. Maki took to visiting it every few months now, though at the beginning she would visit Kaito’s gravesite almost everyday. Shuichi would go with her. At the beginning, she would freely cry in front of Kaito’s grave, begging him to return to the world of the living. Now she simply sat and talked to the grave. She would ask how it was in the afterlife and if there actually was a god. Sometimes she would talk about her day. She would tell him the latest discoveries about the universe and Shuichi imagined Kaito was eagerly listening on the other side, taking in Maki’s every word with enthusiasm and nodding his head as he listened to the girl.</p><p> </p><p>Himiko visited the graves every week. She was still working on her career as a magician so her schedule allowed for it. She would do magic tricks for Tenko and Angie and she would ask about their days as though expectant of an answer. Shuichi didn’t go with her often. The things she talked about to the duo were personal and emotional. He didn’t want to intrude on that.</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi didn’t go to the graves of his own accord. Everytime Shuichi went once a month Kokichi would follow. He wouldn’t go to any specific graves or say anything. He simply stood behind Shuichi as he wept to Kaede or Kaito. </p><p> </p><p>Once a year they would gather and bring food and drinks as they chatted with their fellow classmates, both dead and alive. Himiko would tell them about her new YouTube channel and her slowly rising subscriber count. She was set to get a silver button soon. She was happy.</p><p> </p><p>Maki was actually becoming a real child caretaker. Although she claimed she hated kids, she was awfully good with them. Sometimes Shuichi would visit the former assassin at the daycare she worked at to find little girls clutching on to her skirt as they begged her to do a trick (the thumb-removal trick. Truly a classic). She would always appease them. When they laughed and clapped Shuichi would notice the tiniest of smiles appear on Maki’s face. She was happy.</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi was living with Kokichi. He woke up everyday to his beautiful face smiling back at him. It was odd how much of an early bird Kokichi was and how he seemed to know exactly when to stare at Shuichi so his eyes would be the first thing he saw in the morning. Shuichi would shrug it off as that was just how Kokichi was as he had come to learn over the years. He was becoming a detective too! He didn’t want to hide from the truth anymore. Not for himself, not for Kokichi, and not for everyone else that had died in the killing game. There were survivors who had been silenced when they spoke out against Danganronpa. He wanted to solve their cases and achieve justice for them. It was his duty. He was happy. </p><p> </p><p>Kokichi didn’t do much. At the end of every day, when Shuichi returned from the office, Kokichi was there waiting for him. They would cook dinner together, clean the house together, watch the news together - they did <em> everything </em>together. Sometimes Kokichi would open up about himself. He didn’t lie as much anymore. He was honest now. A sick part of Shuichi liked to think that that was his influence, but the other half of his conscience recognized that it was an active effort on Kokichi’s part as well. He would tell of the traumas that the game had caused him. He claimed to always love Shuichi. That was not a lie. <strike>He was happy. </strike></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Hey, Kokichi.”</p><p> </p><p>The boy smiled, glistening white teeth shining with mischief gleaming at him. “Shuichi? What’s up?”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi stirred a pot of macaroni. He waved him over, gesturing to the boiling pot of water and an apron saying <em> Kiss the Chef! </em> on the counter. Immediately Kokichi hopped off of the sofa, swaying his hips almost seductively as he grabbed the apron and wrapped it around himself. <br/><br/></p><p>“Macaroni? Really? Is that all you could come up with?” the boy chuckled. “Well, we gotta make it <em> spicy! </em>How about… we add garlic, and some grapes, and tabasco…”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi narrowed his eyes at Kokichi as he opened the fridge and got out the controversial ingredients as he named them. “That sounds like an awful combination.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi giggled. “Nope! Grapes are <em> never </em>bad. Even when they rot they turn into raisins.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not the <em> grapes </em>I’m worried about.” No, over the years he had gotten used to adding grapes to every single meal. It had taken some getting used to - and lord knows it wasn’t always tasty - but it was simply a fact of life now. “Garlic, grapes, and tabasco sauce? How is that even mac and cheese? It’s like… a desecration to mac and cheese!”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be such a stickler, detective! C’mon, life is no fun without a little <em> flavor. </em>” Kokichi crept closer to the pot, waving the tabasco tauntingly. Shuichi sternly shook his head, placing a hand on his chest as he tried to come closer. He tsked mockingly, pouting his lip in a faux imitation of Kokichi.</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi furrowed his brows and stomped his foot like that of a child. Angrily, he shook the bottle of tabasco sauce. “Shuichi! You’re being a boomer!”</p><p> </p><p>That caught him off guard. “A-A boomer?”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi winked. “It’s the hip new slang, ya know~!” Suddenly his eyes widened and horror overtook his face. “... Shuichi!” He pointed. Foolishly, Shuichi fell for it and turned his head. A second later when he saw nothing but the dining table he realized he was a fool. </p><p> </p><p>The boy before him was merrily dumping clumps of tabasco sauce into the macaroni mix. A shit-eating grin split his face into two; it was resemblant of a face he had made four years ago on that horrible day they lost one of their most innocent fellow Danganronpa castmates. The memory flashed before his eyes. A second later, he shoved it forcefully out of his mind space and focused on the present moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Kokichi!”</p><p> </p><p>The man looked up at him. Blankly, still dropping clumps of tabasco sauce into the macaroni, he said: “what?”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi looked at the pot. He then looked at Kokichi. He then looked at the pot.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t see your point.”</p><p> </p><p>“You…” he sighed. Hell, how could he be mad at Kokichi when he was being this cute? “Whatever. I’m not too sure about the cheese now though…” Shuichi tapped his chin like he often did when solving a perplexing case. </p><p> </p><p>“WHAT? Are you fucking crazy? It’s macaroni and cheese!” Kokichi gestured aggressively to the box lying on the counter with his free hand. “Not just macaroni! Do you have a few screws loose?”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi scratched his bangs. “Well… uh, aha, I’m just not too sure about cheese and grapes and…” he shuddered “... tabasco.” Kokichi didn’t seem to like that answer. He tilted his head down, a dark shadow encompassing his face from his cheeks to his eyes. “N-Not that those things don’t taste great separately. It’s just… together.” He was speaking wildly with his hands now. Yes, this scenario was ridiculous, but Shuichi wasn’t sure his taste buds could take one more dose of what Kokichi considered <em> ‘good food’ </em>. Lately it seemed like his combinations had become more and more extreme. He put grapes and ketchup in boba, he put jello in hamburgers, and now this! Kokichi never seemed to be bothered by his odd combinations. In fact, he seemed positively thrilled when he chomped into that jello burger. Shuichi, on the other hand… well, he didn’t like it so much.</p><p> </p><p>He supposed that was the price he had to pay for living with someone like Kokichi for so long. He truly was an oddball.</p><p> </p><p>“Shuichi?” the boy in question tilted his head. “What’s up? You’ve got an odd look on your face.”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi snapped out of his thoughts. Had he been staring? Yup… he’d been staring.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, sorry! Nothing… just. You’re really beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi lifted an eyebrow. That look perfectly fit his face; it filled him with ideas of mischief and cynicism as Kokichi looked upon him. Odd. Odd, odd… truly odd… but god, he was beautiful. He was so lucky. “Don’t be getting all sappy on me now, detective! We still haven’t added the finishing touches!”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi grabbed on to the pot of water and brought it over to the sink, straining the macaroni noodles as he kept a careful eye on Shuichi simply waiting behind him. Kokichi walked back to the oven and quickly grabbed the tabasco sauce, drizzling the spice generously over the damp noodles. Shuichi didn’t try to stop him this time. He watched as Kokichi dumped garlic, grapes, and cheese into the pot, stirring and stirring until it made a thick mixture in the plot. </p><p> </p><p>He hummed as he scrapped out some for both Shuichi and himself. He grabbed a spoonful of the macaroni, popping it in his mouth. He hummed pleasantly as he bit into the macaroni, his cheeks puffing out as though he were a chibi. He winked at the boy. “Yummy! You should try some, Shu-bear!”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi raised an eyebrow. <em> Shu-bear? That was a new one. </em>“... gah. Sure. Why not?” Kokichi grinned manically at this, rushing to the bowl lying atop the counter. He dug a spoon in and lifted it to Shuichi’s lips tenderly. When Kokichi did it like that he actually felt like it might be tasty.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Might. He knew it wasn’t going to be actually tasty. He wasn’t an idiot. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Say ahhhh…”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi puffed out his cheeks, akin to that of Kokichi just a few seconds prior. He’d been picking up a lot of habits from him lately. When he was frustrated over a case he’d bite his thumb. When he got especially cheeky with Kokichi he’d throw his arms behind his head. Now this. They really did fit together.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahhh…” and he took a bite. He immediately rushed to the sink. “Pwuh, pwuh! Agh! Kokichi! What the hell!”</p><p> </p><p>“Nishishi! I got you <em> bad </em>, my beloved! Y-You should’ve seen the look on your face!” he cackled and bent over, clutching his sides as he descended into laughter. A moment later, he was completely stoic. “Seriously though. Good stuff, am I right?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, that’s wrong!”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi tilted his head and pressed a finger to his chin. “Oh! Your beloved catchphrase is back!”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi stopped short. Ah. He hadn’t even noticed.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no! Nothing to apologize for, my Shu-chan! That’s where we met, right?” He smiled. After all these years spent with Kokichi, he could tell when he was putting on a brave face. Despite that, he felt like he truly was happy that they met in the killing game.</p><p> </p><p>“At least one good thing came out of that game.”</p><p> </p><p>This time, Kokichi’s eyes twinkled when he smiled. “Yup!”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It happened when Maki and Himiko came over.</p><p> </p><p>They were watching a movie, some stupid horror movie, munching on popcorn and different assortments of candy that Himiko had brought. An apple pie laid on the table, freshly baked. Kokichi had dropped it on the table before disappearing mysteriously into the bedroom. Shuichi had tried to convince him to come out. He couldn’t find him. He must’ve slipped out without Shuichi noticing. Kokichi never was one for social interaction. Outside of Shuichi, of course.</p><p> </p><p>A woman died on screen, blood spurting out of her neck and onto the lens of the camera. Shuichi scoffed in disbelief. She wasn’t stabbed in an artery, there was no need for blood to spurt out that excessively. Anything for dramatic effect, he supposed.</p><p> </p><p>“So over the top. They didn’t even bother to go for the jugular,” mumbled Maki. She silently giggled to herself. Well… not so much giggled. It was more like a low chuckle. </p><p> </p><p>Shuichi leaned down towards Maki, a sly grin on his face. “I know right. C’mon, it’s like they’ve never even researched anatomy before!” Maki jumped before turning to look at the boy, wide-eyed. She then smirked and started laughing to herself, a slight blush at having been caught. Shuichi grinned wider at that and started laughing too.</p><p> </p><p>Their laughter had obviously disturbed Himiko. “Nyeh… we’re watching a movie. Keep it down…” the short girl was staring passively at the screen, watching as a group of three teens ran from the psychopathic serial killer chasing them. “... what were you laughing about?”</p><p> </p><p>Maki, now recovered, simply said: “you’re too young to understand.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nyeh… I’m older than both of you!”</p><p> </p><p>That shocked Shuichi. “You are? I thought you were, um…” he was suddenly very aware of the look Himiko was shooting his way. Although her eyes were half-lidded, she had had a certain passion to her character ever since the deaths of Angie and Tenko. She was fired up. “... uh, I dunno, like 20?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m 32…”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” snapped Maki. She quickly composed herself, grabbing her twin tail almost absentmindedly. She started threading her fingers through it, playing with the loose hairs that her hair tie could not contain. “You look…” Maki gave her a once-over. “... younger.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nyeh… I’ve been told that before…” </p><p> </p><p>Maki shot him an accusatory glare. “How old are you, Shuichi?”</p><p> </p><p>“U-Uh! I’m only 25…”</p><p> </p><p>Maki’s face became completely blank. Her fierce eyes stayed the same. </p><p> </p><p>“... how old are you?”</p><p> </p><p>She mumbled under her breath. A light pink dusted her cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“What?”<br/><br/></p><p>“... 21.”<br/><br/></p><p>
  <em> Twenty-one? That meant that she had only been seventeen when she joined Danganronpa… is that even legal? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>What was he saying? Of course it wasn’t. They brought down Danganronpa for a reason.</p><p> </p><p>Himiko pointed a finger at Maki and laughed. Her face barely changed. Her eyes were still half-lidded, but she now had a slight smile planted on. “Haha! Baby!”</p><p> </p><p>“... do you want to die?”</p><p> </p><p>“Eek! No…” Himiko turned back to the television. Another over-the-top murder was being shown. “Is the pie cool enough now?”<br/><br/></p><p>Shuichi held his hand a few millimeters above the pie, feeling to see how hot the wasps of steam emanating from the cuts of the pie were. They were lukewarm; the hot threads of steam had quickly been cooled by the chill of the fan overhead. “Yep. It’s ready.” He picked up the knife on the table, cutting into the doughy crust and smiling in happiness when the smell of the apples hit his nostrils. “Ah… it smells so good!”</p><p> </p><p>Maki and Himiko each took a slice, also reveling in the scent of the delicious pie. Maki lifted her fork, a content smile on her lips as she prepared for her first bite. “It sure does… I didn’t know you could bake, Shuichi.”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi chuckled lightly as he lifted the spoonful of apple pie to his lips. He could practically <em> taste </em>the tender apples and creamy goodness within this bite. “Ah, no, I can’t bake at all. This was all Kokichi.” And he plopped that bite in his mouth, munching away as he revelled in the taste. Man, Kokichi really could cook! Maybe that’s what he had done before the games. Perhaps it was an innate talent.</p><p> </p><p>He heard a fork clatter. He was snapped out of his fruity goodness, hastily swallowing the bite as he looked for the source of the noise. He found it in Himiko. Her eyes were blown wide - abandoning the half-lidded appearance that they so often took. Her petite hands clasped over her mouth, a gasp emanating from between her fingertips.</p><p> </p><p>He looked to Maki, perhaps for some information as to why Himiko was freaking out. When he did, he saw that she looked to be simply a muted form of Himiko. Her hand was rigid as she held a piece of pie halfway to her lips. Her eyes were blown wide, staring at Shuichi like he just kicked her puppy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Uh, what? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Oh! Right!<br/><br/></p><p>“Sorry! I forgot to tell you guys! God, how could I forget… Kokichi and I have been living together for a few years. It’s, uh, pretty serious. I’d appreciate it if I had your support.”</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them moved. Both of their eyebrows drew together, quivering. It was odd.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re going to say. H-He never comes to anything we do except the annual grave visits, he never talks to you both, and… let’s be honest, he was kind of an asshole in the game. But… over the years, I’ve just gotten to know him so well! He’s kind, he’s funny… and, uh, he doesn’t really tell lies outside of a killing game! Honestly - he’s just perfect!”</p><p> </p><p>Maki lowered her plate to the table and put her head in her hands.</p><p> </p><p>“To… to be honest, I’m thinking of asking him to marry me. He’s just… god! I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I want to be his husband. I would really, <em> really </em>like both of your support.”</p><p> </p><p>“... that’s not funny.”</p><p> </p><p>While talking about Kokichi, the brightest smile had erupted across Shuichi’s lips. At Maki’s comment, it immediately dropped. “Huh? What do you mean, Maki?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said that’s not fucking funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s not funny?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shuichi…” he turned to look at Himiko, watching her trembling form as a single tear fell down her cheek. “Did you forget, Shuichi?”</p><p> </p><p>He tilted his head at her. He did that same damn pose that Kokichi always does and placed a finger up to his chin. “Huh? Forget what?”</p><p> </p><p>In a fit of rage, Maki swept her hand across the table. Her plate flew into the wall and shattered, the remnants of pie crust and goop sticking to the white wallpaper. The girl was breathing heavily, shaking. “I… I…” she looked at her hand. There were a couple cuts scattered decorating the surface of her skin, blood traveling from the open wounds and down into her palms. “I can’t be here.”</p><p> </p><p>With that, Maki hurriedly grabbed the backpack she had brought with her. Her footsteps were loud and violent as she rushed out the door and on to the concrete pavement outside of his apartment. A couple moments later, he heard a car start. </p><p> </p><p>“W… What? Is that really her reaction to me dating Kokichi? I can’t…”</p><p> </p><p>“Shuichi… I’m telling you this because I love you, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi stared at Himiko, eagerly anticipating her next words. Maybe he would find out why Maki had such a problem with Kokichi… maybe, maybe… maybe he could figure out how Kokichi could make amends! He wanted nothing more than the approval of his two best friends. He wanted them to wish him luck in married life. </p><p> </p><p>“Kokichi died four years ago. He died under that hydraulic press. If he’s been going to the annual graveside visits, we haven’t seen him. No one has seen him. We buried what little we could of him four years ago.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Shuichi sat alone on the sofa.</p><p> </p><p>“Shuichi… c’mon talk to me.” Kokichi stood by the counter, a hand on his hip and that same apron wrapped around him. He claimed he was baking cookies but Shuichi didn’t smell anything; he didn’t smell the warm chocolatey aroma of a chocolate-chip cookie being taken out of the oven. He didn’t hear the flip of a switch as Kokichi turned the oven on. He didn’t see a pan sheet or cookie dough being kneaded to perfection. No, he just saw Kokichi standing in the same spot he had before.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “... see? That’s his grave.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It made him sick.</p><p> </p><p>Ha… he wasn’t a liar, huh? <em> Wasn’t a liar my ass. </em></p><p> </p><p>Shuichi felt a dip in the loveseat. He felt the warm body heat of Kokichi (?) emanating from him. From his peripheral, he could see him wiping a white, stained rag over freshly washed porcelain hands. This wasn’t real… <em> how on earth wasn’t this real? </em></p><p> </p><p>“Shu-bear…” god, now that he thought about it, Kokichi wasn’t even like this in the game. Was this all a part of his imagination? He felt Kokichi’s delicate hands clasp onto his shoulders, gently kneading the knots and folds of his upper back. The pressure was relieving and genuine. He felt his shoulders start drooping as the tension that had been building up within them was released and sent to the winds. “How about we bake some cookies, hm?” </p><p> </p><p>When Shuichi turned to look at Kokichi, his eyes were a vibrant violet just as they had always been. He had the gentlest of smiles on his face; so gentle that just the sight of it made him want to cry. God, this was Kokichi, wasn’t it? He couldn’t possibly imagine who else it could be. The purple ombre descending down the finely sprayed locks of his hair were soft and easy to tear. When Shuichi reached up a hand, he laid it on to the crown of his head, stroking and petting it as though he were a dog.</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi didn’t stop smiling. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey… um. May I?” Shuichi gestured to the hair lying atop his head and made a yanking imitative gesture with the hand still stroking the roots. Kokichi simply nodded. When Shuichi yanked out one piece of hair, the boy winced for a moment. It was only a moment, but it was enough for Shuichi. And when Shuichi looked at his hand, he rolled the thread of lavender hair around between his pointer finger and his thumb, watching the way the colors reflected under the lamplight and refracted into the turned-off television screen.</p><p> </p><p>“See, Shu? It’s still me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Yeah… it was still him… right? It was still him. He was alive. They were living together. Shuichi was planning on proposing. That was the deal, right?</p><p> </p><p>“... ha… do you even remember how we met up again? You couldn’t believe your eyes when you first laid eyes on me! Hah… you really looked pathetic, you know?” Kokichi had a playful lilt to his tone, but Shuichi couldn’t help but notice the fact that his pitch was still soft as though he were talking to an injured puppy. “You couldn’t find the body, remember? You never saw my body. I survived, Shuichi.”</p><p> </p><p>“... yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi stared at Shuichi for a long, hard minute. When Shuichi locked eyes with him, it was as though they were in the middle of an intense staring contest that neither opponent had the intention of losing. His eyes burned. Finally, Kokichi broke. He slapped his knees, causing Shuichi to jump at the sudden loud noise, and jumped up from his position on the loveseat. “Well! Now that that’s taken care of! How about we cuddle?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, but… weren’t we making cookies?”</p><p> </p><p>“Psh-aw!” Kokichi blew a raspberry and winked, waving his hand about absentmindedly. “That can wait! My beloved Shu-chan needs a snuggle buddy, doesn’t he?” As Kokichi said that last sentence, the pitch of his voice dropped drastically to the point that it sounded like a mockery of Kronk from the Emperor’s New Groove, his lower lip pouting out childishly as he peered at Shuichi with those big, lovely eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi felt a heat come upon his cheeks. Hah… even after years together, he really couldn’t help but be flustered everytime Kokichi pouted those pink lips at him. “Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Kokichi’s face morphed into a wide grin. He lifted his fingers and shot at Kokichi, finger gunning him as soon as the affirmation left his lips. </p><p> </p><p>Kokichi was smaller than him, but he always seemed to prefer being the big spoon. If Kokichi was actually fake then perhaps that was a projection on Shuichi’s part (after all, Shuichi <em> adored </em> being the small spoon). However, he couldn’t help but feel protected whenever Kokichi laid next to him and took him into those small, pencil-like arms. It was a little funny to imagine. Although he couldn’t see the pair of them from a third person perspective, he envisioned a small puff of violet in a shirt that was much too big for him <em> reaching </em>to fully envelop his boyfriend in his arms, all the while pretending that he wasn’t sore from exhaustion.</p><p> </p><p>Still, it was honestly amazing.</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi nuzzled into his boyfriend’s wrist, feeling the bony structures graze upon his cheeks as he rested against it. It was real. It was corporeal. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re not a… ghost or something, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shu-i-chi! Are you <em> really </em> doubting me <em> that </em>much? C’mon! I said I was real, didn’t I?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Well… not exactly… Kokichi had claimed he had survived the press, somehow. He hadn’t explicitly stated he was real. Ah… but that’s just nitpicking, isn’t it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“No, sorry… I believe you. I trust you, Kokichi.” Shuichi turned around in Kokichi’s arms to face him. The man had a shit-eating grin on his face, those childish eyes filled with nothing but adoration as he stared down at the man in his arms. “You trust me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi grinned wider. “With my life.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“And how long have you been seeing this… Kokichi?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um…” Shuichi twiddled with his thumbs as they sat in his lap, digging the fingernails into the supple flesh of his fingertip so as to not pass out from sheer anxiety. “About three and a half years.” </p><p> </p><p>The doctor in front of him hummed under his breath, clicking his ballpoint pen rhythmically to the beat of a drum as he regarded the notes in front of him. “Do you see other things or people that others cannot see? This can be anything. It could be a series of patterns, an animal, a peculiar shadow on the wall. Anything.”</p><p> </p><p>“N-No… I’m not cr--” Shuichi cautiously looked around the office, taking special care to see if there were any hidden camera mounted on the walls or if a curious nurse passing by had decided to peer into the room through the cracks of the blinds. Shuichi lowered his voice to the point where it was practically a whisper. Through grit teeth, he hissed: “I’m… not <em> crazy, </em>okay? I want to believe Kokichi is real. But… he’s a bit of a hermit, you know? He’s only ever around me. I can’t force him to interact with people!”</p><p> </p><p>The doctor shot him a stern look. “Firstly, Shuichi Saihara, we prefer to avoid the word… <em> crazy </em> around here.” The doctor said the word with distaste, a snarl to his lips as he spoke it. “It has a negative connotation that has led many of my patients into not seeking help for their mental health issues. That’s not what we’d like to advertise.”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi bit his lip and turned away from the doctor. He wished he had his hat right now. “... right. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“And second, I would like to state on the record that you must be your own biggest advocate. If you truly do believe Kokichi is real and that he is simply a hermit, then I recommend not forcing him into crowds or large gatherings of people. Perhaps you could introduce him to one person, even two. If they see him… well, that answers your question. If they don’t…” the doctor scribbled on his notepad furiously. When he finished, he handed it to Shuichi. “If they don’t see Kokichi, I recommend getting in touch with this clinic as soon as possible. If it’s potentially related to the trauma you experienced in Danganronpa, they’ll be able to treat it. They specialize with mental health issues for former castmates of Danganronpa. And no, they are not fans of the show.” </p><p> </p><p>The note was hastily written and the doctor certainly did not have the best handwriting. Shuichi had to squint and hold the paper right up to his eye to be able to decipher the archaic code that lied on the note. Regardless, he stuffed the note in his pocket. </p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Doctor.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“No.” Kokichi had said it so pleasantly and nonchalantly that Shuichi almost didn’t register his words. Kokichi’s grin didn’t leave his face. He smiled and smiled and sweeped a leftover box of crackers and two water bottles into a dustpan. When Shuichi choked on his own spit and air as he tried to make sense of what Kokichi had told him, the boy didn’t even bother to look at him. He carried on with his daily chores, emptying his dustpan into the trash as he failed to regard Shuichi’s existence.</p><p> </p><p>Tentatively, Shuichi inquired: “um… excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi didn’t answer. He hummed to himself, a tune familiar to Shuichi. It was Shuichi’s favorite Vocaloid song. Echo. The song didn’t fit the atmosphere of the conversation and it certainly didn’t belong in Kokichi’s head. As far as he was aware, Kokichi had never even heard of that song. Perhaps he watched YouTube all day when he was gone?</p><p> </p><p>No… he’s being naive.</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi walked up to Kokichi. The man was still idly cleaning, a smile upon those pale pink lips as he hummed that dastardly song to himself. He swayed his hips to the beat and his clothed feet tapped in time to the rhythm playing in his head. When Shuichi got closer, he could see how the reflection of the lamplight perfectly highlighted the eyeliner adorning Kokichi’s eyelids. He had never seen Kokichi without his makeup.</p><p> </p><p>The man’s skin was flawless and free of imperfections. It always had been. Kokichi had claimed it had been due to good habits and good genetics. While Shuichi couldn’t argue with the gene pool, he couldn’t deny how Kokichi had a certain affection for sweets and carbonated drinks, particularly those of the grape variety. Surely years of eating nothing but junk would do <em> something </em>to his face, his body, his teeth… but it never did. He was beautiful. He always had been beautiful. He had been beautiful ever since Shuichi had met him after leaving the gravesite of the fallen victims of Danganronpa season 53. </p><p> </p><p>“Kokichi…”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi was silent. He danced in time to an absent beat. He tossed that broom in his hands, spinning and swirling as he tossed empty takeout boxes into the garbage. He would pick up a box of Chinese food and shoot it overhead into the trash can, whooping everytime he made it. It was brilliant. It was fun. It was Kokichi. It was what Shuichi <em> thought </em>Kokichi would be like if he were still alive. </p><p> </p><p>The red velvet box sitting in Shuichi’s suit pocket felt heavy. The gold of the ring gained weight until the mere idea of proposing to Kokichi suffocated him. The band constricted around his throat as he regarded the man before him - a man that had been the centerfold of his entire life for <em> years </em>- with nothing short of ill-tempered disdain. </p><p> </p><p>“Kokichi!” he couldn’t help but shout. Maybe if he shouted loud enough his stupid hallucination would listen to him. Maybe, maybe… maybe he was hoping that Kokichi would shoot back a snarky comment, a cutting jab, only to say “it’s a lie!” afterwards. <em> Kokichi </em>would willingly hurt his feelings and stomp on his affections without remorse. This fabrication would turn and say…</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Shu-bear?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That. That was the breaking point.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Seeing as he actually was alone, Shuichi felt no shame in falling to the ground. He felt no shame when he wrapped his arms around his knees and muffled a sob into them, tears of sorrow staining the black satin wrapped around his legs. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Everything was a lie, wasn’t it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi fell to the ground besides him. He didn’t hear his body as he hit the floor. He didn’t hear Kokichi say a single word. A tiny hand landed on his shoulder, cold and inhuman as it squeezed the supple flesh that laid beneath his coat. He heard muffled affirmations. “It’ll be okay,” he said, “you don’t need to worry about this now.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What a fucking delusion. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Kokichi…” as he spoke his throat felt tight and thick. His words molded around his teeth as he struggled to coherently get them out from around his sobs. When he turned to look at Kokichi, he saw the man simply smiling at him as if he hadn’t ruined his entire life. “... you really are a good liar.”</p><p> </p><p>At this, the hallucination smiled. It was hollow and devoid of any natural emotion. His eyes were blank. His lips were pulled too tight and too wide. His teeth shined too brightly. Kokichi (?) nodded and leaned closer to Shuichi’s ear. “Don’t worry about it. Trust me, okay? It’ll all be fine!”</p><p> </p><p>How stupid.</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi smiled back. This time, his was also hollow. He couldn’t look at Kokichi the same anymore. He couldn’t love someone that was merely a projection of his own conscience, right? He couldn’t love this Kokichi. This wasn’t Kokichi. It was nothing like Kokichi. He hated this Kokichi. “Yeah. I trust you. I love you.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kokichi didn’t leave his side after that. When Shuichi went to work, Kokichi followed him. He pestered Shuichi relentlessly. He would tap on his keyboard and write on the whiteboard that was chalk full of notes regarding different cases he was working on. None of his coworkers ever commented on it. When Shuichi stared hard enough at that white board, Kokichi’s scribbles would disappear. Black smudge marks and purple ink would fade as he stared at his notes. When Shuichi would write in his notebook - that Kokichi had, of course, defaced - the hallucination’s musings didn’t stay for long. When Shuichi forgot about Kokichi for a moment, every single remnant of the man would disappear without a trace. Then Shuichi would remember Kokichi’s existence again and the man would be back to pester him about senseless madness.</p><p> </p><p>Most of the time, Shuichi couldn’t understand anything Kokichi was trying to say. His eyes were animated as he told tales of mischief, as he talked about when he would pull heists with DICE (as if those memories were real to begin with). Despite himself, Shuichi would sometimes remark upon how it was ironic that a fake person had fake memories too. Kokichi would fall quiet before smiling again and continuing on to tell the tale of his next escapade. </p><p> </p><p>He was annoying.</p><p> </p><p>When Kokichi tried to snuggle him at night, Shuichi would scoot away until he reached the farthest corner of the bed. Eventually, Kokichi would manage to slip under Shuichi’s own personal blanket. Everytime, Kokichi’s icy feet came as a surprise. Shuichi never would feel the blanket lift. When he was met with Kokichi’s bare chest, he felt nothing but disdain.</p><p> </p><p>“Shu-bear! You never wanna cuddle anymore…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shut the fuck up. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>When Shuichi started going to therapy, Kokichi came with him. He would sit in the chair next to him, holding his hand as he retold the strange hallucinations he saw. He would never mention Kokichi by name. He would say things such as “the man”, “the phantom”, the “hallucination”... sometimes, he regarded him by meaner names like “that bastard”. Kokichi never minded those much, though occasionally Shuichi would catch a slight frown overtake his face.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, things did start getting better. Kokichi stopped following him around. Shuichi stopped thinking about Kokichi all the time. Maki wasn’t mad at him anymore. It was okay. It was normal. He was happy.</p><p> </p><p>One day, Kokichi jumped on the bed that Shuichi was sitting on. The mattress didn’t dip. When Shuichi didn’t pay him any mind, Kokichi let out a huge sigh. When that failed to elicit a reaction, he coughed. When all else failed, he tapped Shuichi’s shoulder. Shuichi still didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared ahead at a blank wall, counting the harsh dots decorating the white. </p><p> </p><p>“How long are you going to be mad at me?”</p><p> </p><p>Shuichi didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.</p><p> </p><p>“... you’re being irrational, Shu-bear.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just… shut up.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Shuichi. Please.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Go away already. The sight of you disgusts me.”</p><p> </p><p>“You loved me before.”</p><p> </p><p>“I loved a fake you. You’re not Kokichi. I never knew Kokichi. He died years ago.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi fell silent. Then, he chuckled. “Yeah. He did. So what?”</p><p> </p><p>“So… get out of here. I don’t need you. You made my life a living hell in the game. You’re making my life a living hell outside of the game. I don’t want you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm…” the man hummed and tapped his chin. He smiled again, that same hollow smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wonder why you imagined me, then?”<br/><br/></p><p>Shuichi sighed. A shadow cast itself over his heart and suffocated him. When he sighed, he felt a minimal amount of tension leave his body. This conversation was pointless. He was literally talking to himself. “Me too.”</p><p> </p><p>“... are you feeling bad about the killing game, Shuichi?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not anymore. It’s in the past.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi smiled. It reached his eyes. “You feel bad, don’t you? It’s because you couldn’t save me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just shut up already!”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi tilted his head and a finger poked at his cheek. It was so much like the Kokichi from inside the killing game that it hurt. He didn’t want to think about him. He didn’t want to look at him. But goddammit, he fucking <em> loved </em>him. He loved this man so much it hurt! He loved him and wanted to marry him but his own fucking subconscious had decided to betray him. It was hell. He was in hell. </p><p> </p><p>Kokichi did fall silent. For a long while, the pair sat in silence. Eventually, the boy whispered, “I know that I probably felt bad, too. I feel bad for everything that I did. Everyone I killed. Everyone I hurt. It feels so bad that it just tears me up inside.”</p><p> </p><p>“... you’re just a hallucination.”</p><p> </p><p>“... I know. I still feel bad, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“The real Kokichi would never be this honest.”</p><p> </p><p>At that, Kokichi laughed. It was so heartfelt and <em> true </em>that it sent Shuichi’s mind spinning. Was he real? Was he a ghost? No… he just admitted he was a hallucination. He’s being stupid. “How would you know, detective? You just said that you never knew the real Kokichi, right? Maybe… maybe this is how he would be outside of a killing game!” At that, Kokichi leaned back and rocked from side to side on the bed. A doofy smile rested itself on his face and he stared at the ceiling, appearing to mentally trace the constellations that laid upon it.</p><p> </p><p>“No matter what, you’re still just a hallucination. You’re fake. A lie.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi snorted, the harsh breath of air catching Shuichi off guard as he gazed upon the monochromatic hallucination before him. His violet eyes regarded him, the light from the ceiling lamp making them appear to be more soft than they really were. Kokichi, even as a hallucination, was cold and calculating. He never looked at him like that. He hadn’t ever since Shuichi had learned the truth. “Who said lies are such a bad thing? They can be a comfort.” He tilted his head. “I could be your comfort.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need comfort from a hallucination. I need therapy. I need medicine. I need… friends that are living and breathing and <em> real. </em>” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need to blame yourself anymore, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you, then?”<br/><br/></p><p>“I’m not!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re lying.”</p><p> </p><p>Yes. He was lying. He felt a single tear slip past his eyelid, spilling down his cheek and to the bottom of his chin. “Leave me alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m staying here.”</p><p> </p><p>“I hate you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“... fuck you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kokichi smiled. It was devious and sinister, almost akin to those grins that the real Kokichi would shoot his way during the killing game. “Anytime you want, baby.”</p><p> </p><p>Despite the pain clenching his heart and the gradual increase of tears streaming down his face, he laughed. Then Kokichi laughed. Then, as the hallucination of Kokichi laughed, he saw tears begin flowing down his face too. They were both crying and laughing. If anyone walked into the room, they would see Shuichi sitting on his bed, smiling and cackling like a mad lad as he regarded the absurdity of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>He never knew the real Kokichi. He never had a chance to save anyone, really. Everyone died and… it was his fault, wasn’t it?</p><p> </p><p>Then when he looked at Kokichi (?) again, he saw nothing but the love of his life. He wasn’t real. Nothing was real. Like Tsumugi said, everything was fake. He didn’t think his past of lies would haunt him so much after the killing game, but it tainted his every step and every breath he breathed. Truly, this was hell. Absolute hell.</p><p> </p><p>Then, when he looked upon the hallucinatory form of Kokichi once more, he decided he would be okay staying in hell for just a bit longer.</p><p> </p><p>He would heal. He would keep going to therapy. It was going to be okay.</p><p> </p><p>He was going to be okay.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be okay.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Can you tell I got tired near the end? I did. I hope it still turned out okay and that y'all enjoyed it!</p><p>See you for prompt #2! Wanna hint? Okay... I'll tell you. It has to do with the moon! Fitting for the day NASA is supposed to give us some information regarding the moon, right?</p><p>JOIN THE SAIOUMA PIT: https://discord.gg/5a35Yyx</p><p>TWITTER: @M_BTree</p></blockquote></div></div>
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